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Pirates: Chapter Three - Kingdom of Jade IC Thread

The Shanghai'd Crustacean was as dimly lit and seedy a dockside bar as any. It was filled with sailors, men who called Hong Kong their home port and many foreigners besides. The place smelled strongly of sea salt, sweat, and stale beer. Raccous laughter and conversation in a dozen different languages threatened to drown out even personal though. In one corner a bald scar faced Chinamen belted an Irish elf in the mouth and the two knocked over a table, going down in a flurry of blows.

It was the same ol' same ol' in the Crustacean save for one or two tiny new things. The most obvious was the series of newer wanted posters tacked up, as they had been tacked up in all the bars and businesses alongside the docks.

Camilla Zarine Kelsy Alias Keke was the first listed, with a fairly thorough description and a list of crimes real and partially imagined. Ervan Remoh followed next, again with the list of crimes. This one had a crude drawing of the man, followed by the warning that he sometimes lit himself on fire to evade capture. The last mentioned by name was the monster Cho'kar, a cohort of the other two. A sort of man animal hyrbid creature was drawn, typical depction of orcs and other more bestial humanoids among the populace. There was then a lit of known associates and a pirce list for the bounties on their heads. Sizable bounties. The more curious thing about the posters was the notice added on, in Chinese. "The Palace will match the rewards and provide letters of proof to enable the capturer to claim the original bounty should any of the Wanted be brought to stand trial here. Inquire with Royal Advisor."

THe other small new thing here wasn't actually small, more man sized. A single figure that blended into the crowd for the most part. A Kimono and cloak covered the body and the face was hidden beneath a scarf. Eyes were obscured behind goggles of darkly smoked glass and a large coolie hat shrouded all. The person beneath the get up glanced at the posters for a bit longer than most but mostly kept a low profile toward the back of the bar, watching, and listening.

Shelly walked into the bar. She looked around slightly bewildered at all the sensory input. This was a new town and a new bar. She wasn't even sure how she got here this time. She vaguely remembered being on a boat, but there was a lightning storm and sometimes when there's lightning... it liked to hit her. When that happened she sometimes forgot things. Little things like... the past week or so. Still being in a new place was exciting.

The girl moved further into the bar. Anyone viewing her odd tattooed form, with it's mixmatch of cobbled together armor and garments might notice that her movements were sort of stilted, she moved a little jerkily at times almost. But she was a looker, totally baberageous.

A nasty looking guy with patchy clothes and no teeth was the first person to approach her. He was English and spoke his native dialect with an accent and a bad odour.

"Your a good lookin' bird, Howsabout you an me go find an alley out there and get down to some business, eh?"

Shelly wrinkled her nose in confusion, then she got it and her eyes narrowed.

"Eww! You're a dirty man for saying things like that!" The girl shoved him, but as usual her strength got the better of her and he went flying into the bar. He hit it with a loud crack and slid to the floor, a bit of blood oozing from a nasty head wound.

Shelly's mouth made a little 'o' and she covered it with her hand. Not much for keeping a low profile. Then she decided to press on and blend in. The girl walked up to the bar and put a few coins on the counter top.

"I'll have a..." she though to say water, and then thought maybe if she acted tougher she'd be easier to blend in with a crowd like this.

At a table near the back of the room sat a rather short figure swathed in a black cloak, hood pulled low over her nearly white hair. No stranger to hazard nor craven, she had a difficult time lowering her large, almond shaped green eyes to hide from those seeking to turn her in for the reward. She understood the necessity, but it grated against her pride like a burr under the saddle. Crossing her arms and glowering at her tea cup as though the current situation were somehow it's fault, she bit her lip in consternation. Keke despised waiting. It was not something she was good at, even in small doses. The large cloak hid the sword and dagger sheathed at her sides, but the long bow slung over her back and richly embroidered quiver full of arrows could easily be seen. Straightening her back and pulling herself up to her full height, Camilla tried to appear larger and tougher than she might seem at first glance without exposing too much of her face to prying eyes.

A tumult at the bar drew her attention for a brief moment, a girl being harassed by some low life. Habitually she shifted her shoulders to check the throwing daggers hidden on her back, then touched the small knives hidden up her sleeves. It took all of her self control to keep from laughing when the fellow went sprawling. Good for you. she thought to herself, nodding slightly at the strangely tattooed woman.

Almost against her will, she looked around once more, seeking Ervan. He's probably off somewhere gambling, or dandling some dark haired girl on his knee. she thought, her lips turning up in a small smile entirely against her will. If he was drunk again, he'd hear about it from her. With her fists. And maybe a knife. Or ten. Damn man!

"Look, guys, it's really simple, okay? An ace is a one, which is lower than a two, so I win." The two men looked at Ervan with deep suspicion. They were sitting in one of the many corners in the absurdly angular drinking establishment, playing a game which Ervan always insisted wasn't quite poker.
"I hear ace highest," said one eventually.
"Anyone who told you that is trying to trick you," said Ervan quickly. He brushed an errant strand of hair out of his eyes and smiled.
"Maybe you trying to trick," said the other man. They were both heavily built, their muscular frames covered in tattoos and tattered clothing. Ervan had written them off as dumb muscle, easily duped, but they seemed to be smarter than they looked. Hopefully not too smart... A dagger slammed into the table, inches from Ervan's hand.
"That was very nearly my hand," he said. "I don't think we want to make a scene, do we?"
"We do."
"Oh." Ervan picked up the bottle of whisky he'd... acquired from another table. It was almost empty, sadly. "Well... we could call it a draw. Unless you really want to make a scene."
The man growled, then nodded. He swiped the pile of coins from the table and stood up.
"I, uh, I said draw..." said Ervan, grabbing his shirt.
"Fee. For not making scene."
"Oh. Right." He watched the two men walk away, then looked in the money pouch he'd swiped. That could've gone worse, he thought, getting up and making his way back to the bar.

Shelly caught sight of the woman giving her a nod. Hey, she was doing Good! Shelly gave her a big smile, raised her mug in a sort of salute type thing and then...slipped. It was the floor's fault, all wet and slippery and nasty, and she did manage to catch herself, really... but her drink. The drink went flying, the mug bouncing off the head of a patron and it's contents spilling out on several others, including a roguish gambler who had just arrived at the counter.

"Oh, Everyone! I'm SOOO sorry," she crooned, trying to make ammends, she gave her best sheepish smile. It didn't look like it was going to work. The guy that got hit with the mug and two of the other patrons turned to glare at her. One of them reached down to his belt. The girl's eyes drifted there for a moment, catching sight of the dagger he was getting ready to pull. Uh Oh!

Beneath smokey goggles, keen eyes watched the activity of the bar. Senses were alert to the comings and goings of the patrons. Eventually a burst of conversation piqued the shrouded figure's interest.

"I'm sure it was him. He cheat at cards."

"That explains nothing. If it was him, then we're gold. The Palace will offer us a fortune."

"Even more if we can 'convince' him to tell us where his companions are."

"Yes! Yes! And I know it him. I got his gold in game, now we take him and get the Emperor's gold!"

Suddenly, there was another burst of activity in the bar as a girl at the other end of the room, made a ruckus and seemed to be about to start a fight. The shrouded hunter moved toward the three men who had been talking, easing up behind them.

"I have dealt with these people before. You can not simply walk up and grab him," His voice was low. The three men turned to face...a figure that was so hidden beneath cloth and hat that no real identification was possble.

"What you know, you simply another worthless foreigner," the man who had 'beaten' Ervan at cards retorted.

"I know that it is not wise to simply put your hands on a man that is willing to light his entire body on fire. I have no interest in your Emperor's gold, only your plan to acquire it. Now, come outside with me and I will tell you how to capture your young friend."

The trio eyed the man suspiciously for a moment, looked at each other and then nodded. If the stranger was correct, they might get their money with less effort. If he had something planned, a knife in the back could stop him. The four made their way to the exit and slipped into the alley next door.

"Allright, stranger, how we catch a man on fire?" Pokerman asked. His friends began to take steps to flank their new coconspirator. To their suprise he began to chuckled and stretch to his full height, several inches taller than any of them.

"Short answer is, you do not." As the two brigands on either side of them went for their weapons, a set of matching curved blades arced out from beneath the volumnous robes and cloak, scratching a scarlet line, deep into either of their throats. Pokerman had just gotten his weapon drawn when the stranger pulled down the scarf a bit to reveal rows of dangerous looking teeth.

The men's screams blended in with the other noisy sounds of the rough dockside area, and they faded away before anyone took real notice.

Ervan gripped the wrist of the man trying to pull a knife.
"Stabbing young ladies isn't very nice," he said, signalling to the barman for a bottle of whisky.
"What's it matter to you?" growled the man.
The rogue shrugged. "I don't like it when people aren't nice to young ladies."
"'Ere, wait a minute," said another man, "ain't you that wanted bloke?"
"Who, me?" asked Ervan, smiling broadly. "Nooo... I just... look like a lot of wanted people. If I was that wanted bloke you'd soon know about it."
The two men who had been advancing on the strange girl turned their attention to him.
"There's a reward for you."
"So, uh, you don't believe me?" said Ervan, raising his hands and backing away. "Can you hurry up with that whisky, please?" he shouted. A thought occurred to him. "Have any of you gentlemen heard of Rule One?"
"What's rule one?"
Ervan frowned, then shook his head. "Nevermind, it doesn't apply here anyway." Suddenly he lashed out with a foot, knocking one of the men into a table, which collapsed with a crash, scattering drink. Immediately five more ruffians stood up, looking intent on grievous bodily harm, if not murder.
"He did it," said Ervan, pointing to a nearby drinker at random.